


as long as you stand by me

by yeastlings



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Arguing, Domestic Fluff, Food, Light Angst, M/M, Protective Miya Atsumu, Sick Hinata Shouyou, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:34:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26670742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeastlings/pseuds/yeastlings
Summary: When Hinata comes down with the flu, Atsumu tries his best to take care of him. The operative word here is "tries." [AtsuHina Exchange gift for AiFrost.]
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Miya Atsumu
Comments: 20
Kudos: 204
Collections: AtsuHina Exchange





	as long as you stand by me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AiFrost](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AiFrost/gifts).



> Hello, I hope that you will enjoy this fic! I based it on this prompt: "Sick AU? Hinata got sick and Atsumu needs to take care of him! It'll be quite disastrous in my opinion, but it can also be fluff?"

The alarm on Atsumu’s phone went off at 7 AM. He hit the snooze button, like he always did, and snuggled back into the warm cocoon of blankets. He was about to doze off and enjoy an extra fifteen minutes of sweet, sweet sleep when he realized that Hinata’s side of the bed was still occupied. There was a Hinata-shaped lump under the blankets and a mop of fluffy orange hair peeking out over the top. That was unusual.

Every day, Hinata got up at 5:30 AM on the dot and went for a morning jog and meditation in the park. (He’d tried getting Atsumu to join him, but Atsumu firmly believed that human beings weren’t made to get up before the sun.

“Farmers get up before sunrise,” Hinata pointed out.

“Shouyou-kun, do ya see a rice field or cows anywhere around

here?”

“Osamu-san gets up that early, too.”

“We’ve gone over this before: Samu’s a freak of nature.”)

Atsumu used to get sad when he woke up and found Hinata’s side of the bed empty. Then he realized that there were things he liked about the brief separation, like staying still for once because it felt good to soak in the early morning calm. It was his own kind of meditation, which was broken the moment Hinata came home and started clattering around the kitchen. The smell of coffee and miso soup would waft into the room, Hinata would call out, “Atsumu-san, it’s time for breakfast!” and Atsumu’s day would burst into motion and light.

All of which was to say, it threw Atsumu slightly off-kilter to find Hinata still in bed. He touched Hinata’s shoulder lightly and said, “Shouyou-kun? Are ya not goin’ for a run today?”

There was a sniffle, then a rustle, and Hinata’s face popped out of the blankets. “Atsumu-san…I don’t feel very well.”

Atsumu sat up immediately, brushing Hinata’s messy bangs back. His hair was damp against Atsumu’s hand. Hinata’s eyes were bleary and his face flushed—not with the ruddiness of a good run or volleyball practice, but with the splotchy redness of a fever.

“Shit,” Atsumu muttered.

He got out of bed to retrieve a thermometer and checked Hinata’s temperature: 39 degrees Celsius. Atsumu gnawed on his lower lip. It probably wasn’t anything serious; they were in the middle of cold season, and Atsumu himself had come down with a mild fever a few weeks ago.

It was just that he’d never seen Hinata sick—except for that one time at Spring High, of course, but that was high school Hinata. Adult Hinata slept eight hours a day, drank plenty of water, and ate disgustingly balanced meals. He took vitamin C every time his nose so much as itched (“I know it doesn’t actually work, but it makes me feel better anyway!”) and checked the weather forecast to make sure he wore appropriate clothing. He was so full of energy that it seeped into everyone else around him, but right now even his hair looked dull, limp and plastered to his forehead with sweat.

Atsumu stroked his cheek, frowning when he felt how hot to the touch he was. “‘Fraid that practice is outta the question for ya today, Shouyou-kun. Ya gotta stay home and rest.”

He knew that Hinata was well and truly sick when he didn’t even protest: he just nodded, and let his head sink back onto the pillow as his eyes fluttered closed.

*

“Atsumu-san, I’m going to be fine. Really. I’m an adult. I can take care of myself.”

Despite Hinata’s reassuring tone, Atsumu remained where he was: in the living room, staring worriedly at where Hinata sat on the sofa with a blanket wrapped around him. He was still flushed and bleary-eyed, but he’d changed into fresh clothes and eaten some of the canned clam soup that Atsumu had bought on a whim and completely forgotten about until an hour ago, when he’d frantically searched through the pantry for something that would serve as Hinata’s breakfast.

He hadn’t started getting ready for practice until Hinata obediently took a few sips from the can, and then he’d taken even longer than usual, what with wandering into the living room every few minutes to check up on Hinata. If he didn’t leave soon, he was going to be late. But even though he was all dressed and had his sports bag slung over his shoulder, he was having second thoughts. Hinata looked so small huddled on the sofa like that.

Hinata sighed. “Atsumu-san, come here.”

Atsumu shuffled over and crouched down next to the sofa.

Hinata cupped his cheek—he was so warm! Was this normal, even for a fever?—and smiled. “I know that you’re worried, but I promise that I’m going to be okay. You were sick a few weeks ago, too, and you were fine staying home by yourself. It’s not going to be any different with me.”

“That was different,” Atsumu muttered. “I wasn’t that sick.”

Hinata smiled. “You went through three boxes of tissue and didn’t even want to eat fatty tuna. But you pulled through just fine, and so will I. Besides, you’ll get bored with nothing to do all day, and I’ll feel bad that you missed practice because of me.”

He had a point. It wasn’t like Atsumu could check Hinata’s temperature or rearrange his pillows for him constantly. There was more canned soup in the pantry, and leftover rice in the fridge. Practice was only for a few hours, and then Atsumu could stop by the grocery store to buy some things for dinner.

“Okay…but make sure that you get plenty of rest! No tryin’ to do volleyball drills or go on a light run or whatever.”

Hinata patted his head. “Yes, yes, I promise. I’ll stay right here and wait for you to come home.”

Mollified by his promise and the fact that at least he was upright and smiling, Atsumu finally left for practice. He texted Hinata on the bus to remind him to eat something more substantial, then again as he was walking into the locker room to tell him that there was still half a bag of frozen gyoza (another one of Atsumu’s impulsive purchases, although this one had worked out better since the filling was actually quite good and even Hinata ate some once in a while).

“Hey, Atsumu,” Meian greeted him. “No Hinata with you today?”

“Nah, he’s feelin’ under the weather so he’s stayin’ home.”

“What! You mean Hinata actually gets sick?” Inunaki exclaimed.

“Everyone gets sick,” Sakusa said, rubbing hand sanitizer vigorously on his hands. “The fact that Hinata rarely does just means that he’s more prepared than most people.”

“Besides,” Bokuto chimed in, “it’s January right now and January colds are vicious! That’s what Akaashi told me once, anyway.”

Atsumu gaped. “Wait, really? Are they worse than other colds?” Why had he listened to Hinata? He should have stayed home today!

Sakusa groaned. “The timing of the cold has nothing to do with its severity. Please have some common sense. I assume Hinata was awake and sitting up when you left?”

Atsumu froze. Other than Bokuto and Sakusa, nobody knew that he and Hinata were dating, let alone living together. It wouldn’t be catastrophic if their teammates found out, but it would definitely be messy and Atsumu really didn’t want to deal with that on top of everything else today. Sakusa seemed to have realized his mistake, judging by the quickly growing regret and panic in his expression.

The tense silence was broken by Meian, who said, “Wow, Atsumu, you checked in on Hinata before coming to practice? Guess you two really are good friends.”

His expression was completely guileless, as if his line of reasoning was the most obvious. Atsumu should be grateful that was the case, but he couldn’t help wondering just how oblivious people could be.

“Uh, yeah,” he finally said. “‘Cause he uh. Texted me ‘bout not feelin’ well. So I stopped by.”

“You’re just like Bokuto and Akaashi. Guess that’s what happens when you’ve known someone since high school!” Meian walked past Atsumu, clapping him on the shoulder. “Well, time for practice now. Tell Hinata I hope he gets well soon!”

The other team members filed past, some of them asking Atsumu to pass their good wishes onto Hinata. When it was just him, Sakusa, and Bokuto left in the locker room, Atsumu turned to Sakusa and narrowed his eyes. “You.”

“Nobody found out,” Sakusa protested. Now that the danger had passed, the bastard had regained his usual blase assuredness.

“Yeah, only ‘cause yer lucky that Meian-san’s so clueless! Next time try thinkin’ before ya open yer big mouth!”

“You’re the last person I want to hear that from!”

“Hey, hey,” Bokuto said. “In the end it’s good that nobody found out, right? No harm done!”

“Whatever, whatever. Just don’t give me a heart attack like that again,” Atsumu said, sighing. Then he grinned at Bokuto. “So, how’s your _friend_ Akaashi doing?”

Bokuto socked him in the arm, and even though it hurt because Bokuto wasn’t good at estimating his own strength, Atsumu laughed. He felt better than he had that morning.

He couldn’t help missing Hinata during practice, though. It wasn’t like he couldn’t have fun without Hinata around: volleyball was volleyball, and it had existed long before Hinata entered his life. But the feeling of fulfillment, of having met his match—that hadn’t happened until he did the freak quick with Hinata for the first time during a practice game with MSBY. Watching Hinata so high in the air, his form perfect as he prepared to snap forward, Atsumu saw all of his drive and passion reflected and magnified until it was big enough to satisfy his hunger, even if only for a brief moment. Tossing for other people just wasn’t the same.

When they paused for their first break, Atsumu grabbed his phone, impatient for any updates from Hinata. There wasn’t much, just some cute emojis and a promise that Hinata would eat soon. Then he saw the most recent message: “Actually…I’m having trouble holding down solid food. Can you please buy sports drinks and gelatin on your way home? I like the tangerine and peach flavors! Thank you!!”

Atsumu’s stomach dropped. This was bad, wasn’t it? It would be evening by the time Atsumu got home. What was Hinata supposed to eat in all that time? Wouldn’t he be hungry?

“Everything okay, Tsumu Tsumu?” Bokuto asked.

Atsumu showed him the text message. “I think I should go home. Do ya think I should go home? He can’t just not eat all day!”

Bokuto stroked his chin, humming thoughtfully. He seemed too calm, but then again, that was just how he was: underneath all of his overwhelming energy was a rock solid foundation. His eyes were kind as he said, “I think that you’re really worried about Hinata, so you wouldn’t get much more out of practice, anyway. Oh, but people might wonder why you’re leaving, so maybe you should come up with an excuse. Unless you don’t care, of course!”

That was all Atsumu needed to hear. He gathered his things, told Meian that there was a family emergency (“Oh no! Is it Osamu? I hope everything’s okay with him”) and left—but not before Sakusa shoved a few packets of herbal tea into his hand and grunted, as if that was a perfectly valid way to communicate his intentions. Not that he cared about Sakusa’s manners right now.

As usual, the grocery store was too bright and loud. Since Hinata did all of the cooking, Atsumu did the grocery shopping. Hinata always gave him a detailed shopping list complete with brand names, descriptions, and sometimes even doodles of the items. It wasn’t like Atsumu didn’t know how to grocery shop, but if left to his own devices, he would simply grab the most familiar name or the item with the flashiest packaging.

Hinata, on the other hand, carefully considered each ingredient and checked the quantity versus price to determine which option was a better deal. Atsumu didn’t really understand—even if they didn’t make a lot of money as pro volleyball players, they weren’t exactly tight on money, either—but it was important to Hinata, so Atsumu tried to put a little more thought into which sports drinks and gelatin cups he picked.

Choosing which brand of snacks to buy didn’t require the same amount of focus as hitting a perfect serve during a game, but Atsumu still wished he could make everyone in the grocery store shut up. The overlapping voices, on top of the endless aisles, distracted him. By the time he finished checking out and burst through the door of his and Hinata’s apartment, he was sweaty and disgruntled.

Hinata was still on the sofa just like he’d promised, watching a recording of an old Black Jackal versus Adlers game. He blinked at Atsumu in surprise.

“Atsumu-san, did practice end early today?”

Atsumu set the grocery bags down on the counter and brought a pack of gelatin over to Hinata. “I got real worried ‘cause ya said ya couldn’t eat, so I came home early.”

Hinata took the gelatin, but rather than relieved, he seemed worried. “You didn’t need to! I’m sorry if my text worried you, but it wasn’t that serious.”

“Not that serious?” Atsumu squawked. “Ya couldn’t hold food down!”

“Well, as unpleasant as that is, it’s not out of the ordinary for a flu like this.” Hinata sighed and picked at the foil lid for a moment. Atsumu knew the gesture for what it was: Hinata was buying time, trying to quell his unhappiness because he didn’t want Atsumu to see.

Was it because he felt responsible for making Atsumu miss practice? Hesitantly, he said, “Ya don’t have to feel bad about me leavin’ practice. It wasn’t the same without ya, anyway.”

Hinata finally smiled at him, though it was more subdued than usual. “I know, but I still can’t help it. And you look so frazzled, too. Was it crowded at the grocery store?”

Atsumu flushed. “Nah! I mean, kinda. But it wasn’t a big deal!”

He got up and went to wash his hands, embarrassed that Hinata had noticed. Right now, Hinata was sick and needed Atsumu to take care of him. But instead, he was the one trying to reassure and comfort Atsumu. Was Atsumu’s agitation that obvious?

Determined to suck it up and be the perfect caretaker for Hinata, Atsumu returned to the living room and asked, “D’ya want me to make ya somethin’ like congee for dinner?”

Hinata shook his head. He had finished one gelatin cup and was digging into another. “I think this is all I can handle right now. Thank you though, Atsumu-san.”

Atsumu’s mouth turned down. “Ya don’t have to worry about it bein’ troublesome for me. Even I can handle congee.”

“That’s not why! I really just don’t have an appetite right now.” 

If Hinata weren’t so obviously sick, Atsumu would have thought that an alien had kidnapped him and replaced him with a clone. When did Hinata _not_ have an appetite? He could eat even more than Atsumu.

“Well, how ‘bout I make ya some tea? Omi-kun gave me some of that medicinal stuff he always swears by.”

The last thing Atsumu expected Hinata to do was sigh deeply and rub his forehead. “Atsumu-san,” he said, voice strained. “I really don’t need anything right now.”

Atsumu bristled. Hinata had what seemed like infinite tolerance for him and his eccentricities, even the more difficult ones. It was rare for him to be irritated with Atsumu, so whenever he was, Atsumu couldn’t help feeling like he’d done something very, very wrong. Only, this time Atsumu couldn’t figure out for the life of him what that was.

He couldn’t hide his own irritation as he asked, “What? What’d I do now?”

Hinata stared at him wide-eyed, as if he wasn’t the one who’d gotten pissy in the first place. “Nothing’s wrong. Why are you getting mad?”

“I’m not! I just wanna know why yer so fed up with me.”

“Atsumu-san, I’m not fed up with you.”

He was talking slowly, like Atsumu was a kid who needed to be calmed down. Atsumu gritted his teeth. Maybe he should leave the apartment, take some time to cool down. It wasn’t right to pick a fight with Hinata when he was sick.

Then Hinata spoke again: “I know you’re trying your best, and I promise that you haven’t done anything wrong. It’s just…I’m really tired, and you hovering over me just stresses me out.”

Atsumu’s irritation immediately deflated, leaving him with only guilt. Somehow, he’d managed to make this whole situation about himself. What kind of boyfriend was he?

Hinata stood up and walked over to him, his blanket trailing behind him. He laid a hand on Atsumu’s arm, but it was a brief gesture and it lacked reassurance. All that radiated from him was exhaustion. Atsumu felt terrible.

“I’m going to go take a nap now, okay? You should make sure to rest, too, and get something for yourself to eat.”

With that, he shuffled off, leaving Atsumu alone in the living room with nothing but the buzzing TV and the groceries spilling out haphazardly on the kitchen counter.

*

When they were kids and Atsumu really, really pissed him off, Osamu would get the upper hand by telling him, “Well, at least I don’t suck at everything besides volleyball!”

Back then, Atsumu hadn’t really cared: volleyball was more important than everything else, so what did it matter if his teammates didn’t like him or if he somehow always said the wrong thing? He was the number one setter in all of Japan, and he’d been invited to the national youth training camp, unlike Osamu.

He liked to think his social skills had improved with maturity, but in other respects, it seemed like Osamu had been right about him after all. When it came to anything that wasn’t volleyball, Atsumu struggled. He could stick to a regular meal and exercise routine, since those things affected volleyball, but he couldn’t keep track of rent or bills. He could do household chores like the laundry, but his mind often wandered to food, Hinata, or volleyball-related topics, and then a white T-shirt would come out pink.

Hinata was the complete opposite. The first thing Atsumu thought when he met him again at the MSBY tryouts was, “Wow, he’s got it all together now.” Their relationship on the court was reciprocal, each of them pushing the other to greater heights and following right behind to back them up; but off the court, it seemed like Hinata was the only one doing the pushing, gently prodding Atsumu to learn new things like making a spreadsheet to keep track of his expenses. As embarrassing as it was to admit, he’d taken Hinata’s steadiness for granted.

It made him feel stupid, but not any stupider than moping in the living room while Hinata had a fever. Atsumu cleared the groceries off the counter and examined the contents of their refrigerator. If he could master the hybrid serve, then surely he could do something as simple as taking care of Hinata while he was sick. The only way to get better at something was to practice, right?

Thankfully, congee was straightforward, especially since Osamu had drilled the correct ratio of rice to water into him since they were kids. Atsumu arranged the bowl on a bed tray along with a plate of apple slices and one of the peach gelatin cups. He brought it to the bedroom, nudging the door open slightly to peek inside. Hinata, who was already sitting up in bed, looked at him in surprise.

“Atsumu-san?”

Atsumu shuffled inside. “I brought ya dinner. Ya don’t gotta eat it, but I thought ya might have an appetite after getting some sleep.”

Right on cue, Hinata’s stomach growled. He blushed, and Atsumu laughed. He set the tray down in front of Hinata. “Cute. Here. It’s just some congee and fruit, but I can buy ya somethin’ else later if yer still hungry.”

Hinata ate a spoonful of congee, then another. Soon he had gobbled the entire bowl as well as the gelatin. Atsumu watched in amazement. Just this morning he could barely drink soup, and now he was devouring rice and fruit.

“Shouyou-kun, yer immune system’s really somethin’ else.”

Hinata grinned sheepishly. “Yeah, I kept trying to tell you that I’m going to be okay. I just need some rest.”

He finished the last apple slice, and Atsumu took the tray. As he was standing up to take it back to the kitchen, Hinata grabbed his wrist and said, “Atsumu-san…I’m sorry I lost my temper with you earlier.”

It was Atsumu’s turn to blush. “Oh, that. Don’t worry ‘bout it. I know I was bein’ kinda annoying.”

“ I was worried because I knew you would go a little overboard. And then you even left practice early!”

“I know, I was bein’ dumb,” Atsumu mumbled.

Hinata stroked his thumb over Atsumu’s wrist. “It wasn’t dumb. It’s because you care about me a lot. I care about you a lot, too, so I didn’t want you to have to worry.”

Atsumu’s heart squeezed. Even when he wasn’t feeling well, Hinata wanted to be there for Atsumu. In that case, shouldn’t Atsumu do the same for him? There were things that made him feel insecure and scared, but he could set them aside to make sure that Hinata was okay. It wasn’t that complicated; sometimes it was as simple as making a bowl of congee.

He kissed Hinata’s forehead. “I’m gonna be fine. I’m an adult too, ya know. Just get some rest now, ‘kay? If ya need anythin’ else, I’ll be right here.”


End file.
